


Crystallize

by Owlship



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, Masturbation, Morning Sex, Pining, Post-Canon, Vaginal Fingering, teeny tiny hint of surrealism because dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:25:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7861657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlship/pseuds/Owlship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beds at the Citadel are nothing like the mattress he’s on now. It’s wide and soft underneath him, covered in pillows and blankets that are blissfully clean and smell like fresh cotton. The beds <em>anywhere</em> in the wasteland aren’t like this in all honesty, but Max certainly doesn’t mind the change and stretches out with room to spare, humming contentedly when he realizes there’s a warm body lying half on top of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crystallize

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [#smutty_arts challenge](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Smutty_artsPromptChallenge) a couple of weeks ago, based on a lovely art prompt by Ghostsjogging!
> 
> Originally posted [on tumblr](http://v8roadworrier.tumblr.com/post/148921347011/have-a-shamefully-late-entry-for-this-weeks).

The beds at the Citadel are nothing like the mattress he’s on now. It’s wide and soft underneath him, covered in pillows and blankets that are blissfully clean and smell like fresh cotton. The beds _anywhere_ in the wasteland aren’t like this in all honesty, but Max certainly doesn’t mind the change and stretches out with room to spare, humming contentedly when he realizes there’s a warm body lying half on top of him.

He blinks his eyes open slowly and smiles when he sees that it’s Furiosa, still asleep herself.

She looks peaceful, the morning sun a light glow on her skin, and he nuzzles his face against buzz of hair covering her skull, unworried on such a morning as this that the action might startle her into being defensive. She comes awake with a soft sigh, moving to cuddle in closer without even opening her eyes.

Max runs a hand down the length of her spine, slipping his fingers between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her shorts to touch her skin, just wanting to feel it against his own. She sighs again, then presses her mouth to his.

The kiss is slow like everything else about this morning, a lazy slide of lips and tongues. There’s no need to rush anything- he feels as if they have all the time in the world, as if there’s nothing important beyond the confines of the bed. He’s woken up already hard but it doesn’t feel urgent, not even when Furiosa’s thigh slides against his dick in a drag of delicious friction.

He slips his hand up under her shirt, trailing over her skin until he reaches her breasts, his fingers circling around to feel the shape and weight of one. She’s so soft here, a change from the wiry muscle that fills out the rest of her body, and knowing it seems almost like a secret between the two of them. Max sweeps a thumb back and forth over her nipple and can feel it slowly tightening to a peak, the skin pebbling up sensitive under the attention.

She still has her eyes closed but she’s smiling against his mouth, the crook of her left arm lying against his shoulder and her hand grabbing for his free one, placing it firmly on the curve of her waist.

He can’t very well ignore that sort of invitation and he rucks her shirt up to expose more of her abdomen before sliding both hands down, tugging at the waistband of her shorts and waiting for her to say something to stop him. Furiosa only hums a little and wiggles her hips, urging him on.

Max pulls the shorts down past her hips and then without warning rolls the both of them, so she’s on her back underneath him on the incredible mattress and soft clean sheets. She gasps but the smile doesn’t leave her face, and she parts her thighs invitingly with him between them. Her eyes are still closed but she has no trouble reaching out to him, tugging at his clothes until he’s naked.

He wants to touch her all over, but can’t hardly decide where to start. Her hair is a soft prickle against his palms, the arches of her cheekbones graceful and strong, her mouth lushly inviting. When he traces the curve of her lips she swipes out her tongue; he slips a finger just inside her parted mouth to chase it and she sucks his finger in deeper easily, swirling her tongue around it and making him groan at the feeling. But then she presses her teeth down lightly, teasingly, and Max withdraws his finger with a playful growl. He runs it down her neck instead, her spit shiny and drying cool enough against her skin to have her let out a shivery little breath of laughter at the sensation.

He kisses her smiling lips again and then traces a matching line down the other side of her throat more directly, tasting the salt of her skin under his tongue.

Furiosa arches up into it when he sucks a kiss to the delicate wing of her collarbone; for a moment her entire body rubs up into him and he gasps to feel her skin moving against his.

He keeps exploring with his hands, running down the length of her arms, twining their fingers together for a moment while he cups the scarred skin just below her elbow before starting back. Her shirt’s still on but he leaves it rather than disturb the way she's laying, strokes at the edges of where the fabric covers her until she shimmies impatiently, reaching back out to him.

Max hums wordlessly and moves his hands along her torso, fingers fanning out to feel the arches of her ribs expand and contract as her breathing picks up, sliding down the shifting muscles of her belly. She still isn’t looking at him, eyes closed and face relaxed as she lets him touch her, but she’s pushing into each touch like she wants nothing more than his hands on her.

He lets his fingertips just brush against the thatch of hair between her legs, the curls damp with how wet she is- how wet he’s made her, a thought that sends a pulse of want from his balls to the tip of his dick- before he drags them away, instead dipping underneath her to cup her ass.

Furiosa kicks out lightly against his side at the tease, only really succeeding in making the muscle of her rear flex against his hands, and groans out his name in annoyance.

He leans up to kiss the noise away and she buries her hand into his hair and bucks her hips up against his, asking without words. When he pulls away he takes a moment to just look at her stretched out open and wanton on the mattress, expression softly yearning and the morning sunlight a wash of light gold on her pale skin. It’s an image he wants to savor, a moment he wants to stretch out as long as he can.

Max brings a hand to her pussy and strokes the outer lips until she makes another annoyed noise at how slow he’s going, and then he slips his fingers between, to where she’s hot and soft and so wet he’s amazed she isn’t dripping down his fingers. She gives a gentle gasp at the contact, and when he strokes a finger along the length of her from clit to cunt she moans deeply.

He circles around her opening, teasing still until her expression twists a little in impatience and he slips his finger inside. She rocks her hips up and squeezes down around him and he’s the one to groan at the promise of it, of how welcoming she feels just around his finger. He’s hard and aching, leaking a little in eagerness; it would be so easy to push inside her, but there still doesn’t feel like there’s any reason to rush, and he’s not done exploring her yet.

His other hand he slides back up her abdomen, stopping when he reaches the soft swell of her breast to pluck at a nipple, rolling it between his fingers while she grabs the back of his neck to pull him in close. Max attempts to coordinate his hands so he can play with her breast at the same time as he moves his fingers through the folds of her pussy, working little noises of pleasure out from her as she pushes against him.

Still her eyes are closed, but she easily directs his mouth to land against hers for a sloppy kiss, breaking off to moan again when he rubs over her clit.

The sunlight is warm on his skin and Furiosa is moving against him eagerly and he wants to stay like this perhaps forever, wants to never leave this haven of a bed where it’s just the two of them and he can trace over every line and curve of her body. He wants to see her come, to make her fall apart around his fingers and then slip inside so he can be enveloped in her, to join with her as close as he can manage.

Max ruts his hips forward so his dick finally skates against her skin, pressing into the sweaty crease between her pussy and thigh, and the friction and pressure has him groaning out her name-

A noise startles him awake and he jolts upright, blinking hard against the sunlight that’s far harsher than it was a moment ago.

He stares around frantically but can’t see anything amiss out of the windows of the Interceptor, no signs of movement or sounds other than the rustle of the wind. After a tense minute of waiting for what turns out to be nothing Max collapses back into his folded-down seat and thinks about ignoring the erection still pressing against the fly of his trousers despite the interruption, but his hand drifts down to cup himself through the leather before he can work up much motivation.

It was just a dream, one he’s been having variations of for too long now, and there’s no helping the way his body reacts to it. He presses the heel of his hand over his dick and thinks that he should at least push the fantasy out of his mind, though it persists in playing out behind his eyelids when he closes his eyes against the bright sunlight, because he has no right to envision Furiosa like that.

No wonder she wouldn’t open her eyes to look at him in the dream- he wouldn’t be able to meet her gaze at all if she knew what he was thinking, the ways he wants her.

He’s still achingly hard and there’s no immediate danger outside his car, just consequences to think about later. Max frees his cock and licks his palm before wrapping his hand around himself, giving a light stroke while he tries to dismiss the dream in favor of just concentrating on the simple feeling of his hand around his dick. It’s futile, really, and with a resigned sigh he lets the image of that intimate golden space again come into focus, promising himself that the next time this happens he won’t give in.

 


End file.
